Burn for Me, Fireheart
by Roza Chameleon Redbird
Summary: He was a seventeen year old prince trying to find his away into the good graces of Queen Maeve in Dornelle. She was a young princess sent across the ocean to revive relations with her aunt. Together, they would rattle the stars (if he could only get past that pesky frog stuck in his throat whenever she was around). Rowaelin AU
1. The one in which they meet

**A/N: Next part of Embers of Sacrifice is in the works but until then, here's a little AU that's been bouncing around in my head!**

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She was fire.

Every movement and every word was fast, scorching, unstoppable.

Those eyes, ringed with the brightest gold lit from the inside as she prowled and stalked.

He wished he could talk to her, that some of that fire could be directed at him. Everything about her screamed perfect and those ears. He wished he could take his lips and lick –

Stop. It would never happen; she was so out of his league.

A princess, the next in line for the throne of Terrasen. And what was he? A hunkering guy that was bound to serve in the army. Sure, he was a prince _technically_ , but it was just for show. So he kept his head down as she walked in front of him with his older cousin, laughing at something he said, placing an arm on his shoulder. The wind started to pick up as he saw her leaning into him.

The single raised eyebrow and wicked smirk she threw back at him, told him that she he was the source.

Rowan's eyes widened and he was pretty sure his ears turned a startling pink as he blushed.

Those eyes, he could get lost in them.

And now they were locked on him.

 _Oh gods._

She slowed down so that she could walk next to him, "Are we _boringg_ you, Hawk boy?" She drawled out that word, making it rife with sarcasm.

His heartbeat started to pick up. Her growing smirk told him she could hear it too.

 _Oh gods, oh gods._

He was mortified. And he was pretty sure that his entire face was bright red.

Deep breath, Rowan. One sentence and then she'll lose interest and go back to talking to Erlin.

Trying to control his breathing, his tongue felt like cotton in his mouth. "No, Princess."

Good, he did it. Now –

 _Oh gods_ , now she was talking to him.

"Ah, so he _does_ speak!" She laughed as she continued, hands raised up to the heavens as if they'd answered her prayers, her lips a tantalizing shade of red. So full, so beautiful. Rowan just wanted to kiss them –

She was still speaking, shit, to him. Right, need to pay attention. But those lips, he wondered if they'd taste like the cherries they looked like, "…part of Dornelle?"

Oh gods, he missed what she said. His ears were definitely bright red by now, "Sorry, what?" He choked out, it came out a lot quieter than Rowan hoped. Internally, he winced.

Eyebrows still high, her smile became predatory, "I said, buzzard, what is your favorite part of Dornelle?"

Oh, okay he could answer that. Clearing his throat again, he answered, "The docks, Princess."

Good, he couldn't help the mental pat on the back he gave himself. That almost sounded normal!

She just stood there, arms crossed, amusement shining in her eyes in answer. "Hmmm…" Then she looked him up and down, eyes pausing on the sword he always carried at his side. Rowan really, really tried not to look down at where her crossed arms pushed up her breasts.

 _Don't look, don't look._

His eyes moved down out of their own volition. He could feel himself starting to get hard at those perfect –

 _Oh Gods._

Think of something gross! Dead puppies, old mortal women, anything.

He quickly looked back up and – _no, no_ – Rowan realized that Aelin had seen him look, if that smirk was any indication.

She seemed to come to a decision then and said with those sultry, scandalous lips, "Well, I guess you'll just have to show me them later then, won't you?"

Wait, what? His eyes grew wide at that.

She just stood there, daring him to say no. Unable to get passed the random frog that had somehow jumped into his mouth and was relaxing in his throat now, Rowan nodded in answer.

Her answering smile was blinding. So filled with fire, intensity, beauty and satisfaction. He was also pretty sure he saw flames flicker in her eyes but that was probably just his imagination. Then with one last look at him, she spun around, heels clicking on the stone path of the market road, and wrapped an arm through his cousin's waiting elbow.

He knew, just knew then, he was in for a worlds of trouble.

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 **A/N: Review please!**


	2. The one in which they fight

**A/N: Next part of Embers of Sacrifice is *still* not done, it seems my mind really likes a young Rowan!**

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Chap two

Rowan's sword clashed into Lorcan's, the clang reverberating through the stone training room. He shifted to the right, raising his sword defend his open left side, just in time to stop Lorcan's blade from cleaving him in half.

Lorcan stepped back and Rowan took a deep breath, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. "Not bad, boyo." Lorcan said with a sharp smile, "You're getting better at protecting that left side."

Rowan just nodded in response, poised to go again.

Noticing that Lorcan's still hadn't picked up his sword again; Rowan lowered his back down as well.

"I think that's enough for now and let's practice some hand to hand combat." Lorcan continued, and Rowan couldn't help but smile in anticipation. That, he knew, was an area their skills were much more equal.

"Aren't you scared to get your ass handed to you again Lorcan?"

Lorcan's answering glare caused Rowan's smile to widen even further, "You just got lucky last time kid, don't go getting too confident."

Rowan huffed a laugh and looked away, glancing through the window at the evening sky. Confident? Yes. Overconfident? Nope, he knew he was good, "We'll see about that, Grandpa."

Shaking his head at him, Lorcan beckoned him back into the practice mat circle, "Okay kid, how about we make it interesting then? Let's bet on it."

Rowan nodded and tried not to smirk as he used his hand to wipe the sweat collecting along his brow, "If I win, again," Lorcan's glare intensified, "then you have to tell my father and Queen Maeve that I am an…" Rowan paused for effect, "amazing, prodigy-level fighter."

Lorcan's mouth tightened at that but he just exhaled through his nose and nodded, "And if I win?"

Rowan raised his eyebrows. Fat chance of that happening.

Lorcan seemed to think about it for a second, and then he finally smiled with all his canines visible, "If I win, you have to jump off the castle wall, into the water…" Rowan smiled thinking how easy that would be in hawk form but then Lorcan's next phrase drew him up short, "In just your human form."

Rowans jaw snapped shut.

Now that… that could be problematic. Rowan's smile disappeared as he realized that he could possibly die doing that. "Isn't that, a bit… you know? Deadly?" He asked gesturing to the hundred eighty foot drop through the window.

Lorcan just huffed and answered, "Scared of a little air, boyo?"

Rowan glared at him as he started stretching out his arms, "No. It's fine, let's do it."

He was not going to back down. Besides, he'd win. Or so he hoped.

Rolling his neck, Rowan got into position across from Lorcan: knees bent, legs shoulder width apart, hand in lose fists in front of his chest. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he waited for Lorcan to make his first move.

He didn't have to wait long.

The fist came at him from the side, so fast it was nearly a blur. Raising an eyebrow, Rowan neatly dodged the arm and with practiced ease, swung at his opponent's ribs. From there, it was all instinct.

Step, duck, kick, dodge, dodge, punch, step.

Until with a slightly unhinged look on his face, Rowan realized that Lorcan had placed his weight incorrectly on that last punch. That meant he had left himself open to a getting his legs kicked out from underneath him. Rowan, not one to ever waste an opportunity, did just that.

Lorcan's body hitting the mat and Rowan's quick pounce to keep him pinned, was music to his ears. Lorcan's glare though? That had to take the cake for one of the greatest things he'd ever seen.

They stayed that was for a second, Lorcan's jaw tightened in anger and dare he say it? A bit of embarrassment. Rowan opened his mouth to taunt him and rub some salt in the wound but someone suddenly started to clap behind them, loud and slow.

Reaching down to give Lorcan a hand to help him up, Rowan said with exaggerated swagger dripping from his voice, "So I think your declaration should be in the middle of the hall, during the next ball. What do you think?" without turning around or waiting for Lorcan to answer, Rowan told the newcomer, "Hope you enjoyed the show."

The stranger came to stand outside of the mat and he felt himself stiffen as the person's scent wafted around him. Sweet, with an edge of burning wood.

Oh Gods, not her, please, not her.

"Oh you bet I did, Hawk boy."

 _Shit._

By then, Lorcan was already standing, indignation rolling off him in waves. That, and only that, let him miss Rowan's telltale widening of the eyes and suddenly racing pulse.

"What you saw there was beginner's luck, Princess. And you can bet, it'll never happen again." Lorcan then shifted his gaze to Rowan, his glare assessing and deadly.

As if realizing that he wouldn't turn around and face her, Aelin slowly walked around the edge of the mat until she stood directly in front of him. He could practically feel the heat of her eyes leaving a trail of goosebumps on his chest as she sultrily looked him over. "Somehow, I doubt that."

Lorcan's eyes glazed in anger and he looked ready to pounce on the princess to defend his skills as a fighter, but then as if realizing who he was talking to, his shoulders relaxed and he just acquitted, "Maybe so, your highness." It must have killed him to admit that.

Meanwhile, Rowan had finally glanced back up at Aelin. And he felt his mouth go dry, blood leaving his head and venturing south. Gone, were the frilly dresses she had worn when in meetings and around the city. Instead she wore a - _dear Gods_ \- she wore a tight black leather suit that left nothing to the imagination.

He felt himself unconsciously look her over. Her shapely calves, wide hips, tiny waste and those breasts just begging to break free of their restraints, his breathing became shallow.

It had to be a sin for someone to look _that_ good.

As if she could feel his eyes on her, just like he had felt hers, Aelin stalked over to him and cocked her head to the side, bearing her creamy neck as her plait fell off her shoulder – Rowan clenched his jaw as he realized just how badly he wanted to _bite_ her. Right. There. – and she said, "Like what you see, Hawk boy?"

Still stalking towards him, now just feet away she lowered her eyes and looked at him like she wanted nothing more but to have him her way, "Because let me tell you, Rowan…" He swore he would never get over the way those lips moved as she said his name, some instinctual part of him nearly purring at the possession laced in her voice. She took a solitary finger and moved even closer to him, leaving just a few inches between them. And slowly, not changing that look in her eyes, she dragged a sharp nail lightly over his bare chest and put her mouth by his ear, her breath tickling its sensitive tip as she whispered, "because I do."

His breath hitched in response and he could practically feel her smirk as she stepped back and looked at her nails, like she had done nothing, like she hadn't just caused a burning trail to spring up from where she had lightly scratched him all the way down to his groin.

Mala save him but he would let the world _burn_ if he could ever get her to something even remotely close to what those eyes promised.

Unable to answer, he just gulped, his adam's apple bobbing up and down with the motion.

In the background he heard Lorcan bark out a laugh. That it seemed, snapped Aelin out of whatever she was thinking, and she turned his back to him.

Leaving Rowan with a perfectly good view of her shapely –

Snapping his eyes up, he specifically tried not to think of that part of her. Instead he concentrated on Lorcan, who seemed to be talking.

With something close to mirth in his voice, Lorcan said, "Anything we can help you with Princess?"

Rowan glared at him. Screw Lorcan for basking in Rowan's growing mortification and the blush slowly creeping up his neck. He was a healthy male damn it. He couldn't help but be attracted to her.

Still not looking back at Rowan, Aelin answered, "Oh, I was just wondering if I could steal your sparring partner." She rolled her neck as if to loosen it, "It seems that since I've been here, I've been remiss in keeping up with my normal training routine."

Lorcan scrunched up his eyebrows in surprise, "You mean…" He looked her up and down, as if to size her up, "You want to fight?"

Her smile was more a show of teeth than anything else as she noticed the look, "Don't let my size fool you, Lorcan." Then turning her head back at Rowan, she winked, "I have a hell of a bite."

To his credit Lorcan tried to cover up his answering laugh with a cough. Rowan realizing how bad it would go with they started to fight, started shaking his head no at the male. _Please, please, please no_ he practically screamed with his eyes.

"So what do you say, can I have a go at him?"

Lorcan seemed to consider it for a moment and then noticing Rowan's expression, his face turned positively evil, "Hand to hand or with weapons?"

Shit _._

She nonchalantly shrugged at him, "Doesn't matter, I'll kick his ass either way."

Rowan made a small note of protest but neither of them noticed. Suddenly, Lorcan's nostrils flared as he smelt something in the air and with a startled laugh, and an almost pitying look thrown at Rowan, he turned his head towards Aelin, "He's all yours Princess."

Walking out of the circle, Lorcan just kept shaking his head and laughing to himself, until finally he snorted and clapped Rowan on the shoulder earlier anger seemingly forgotten, "Good luck, boyo."

Before he could analyze what just happened, Aelin's attention was on him and he nearly forgot his own name.

The way she moved, made her breasts bounce with every step. And that hair, so startlingly light against her tight black suit.

But, but she was just so… well, not physically intimidating. At least, not from a purely fighting perspective.

Otherwise? His tightening pants could attest to her intimidation levels in _other_ ways.

He was about to voice his skepticism but one look at her eyes that were practically taunting him to say anything in protest, had him wisely snapping his mouth shut.

So with a sigh, he got into position.

Her face was blank as she stood across from him, hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

Just to get it over with, Rowan swung first. Purposefully slowing his arm down to at least give her some of a shot. The scorching pain surrounding his fist, had him regretting his decision as he swore. But as quickly as the flames appeared, they were gone.

Startled he looked up at her.

"Don't." Her face was set with a deadly calm, "Don't go easy on me."

Still shaking his hand to get rid of the phantom heat, he just nodded and hoped that her kingdom wouldn't hate theirs too much if she came back bruised or bloody.

Getting back into position, he took a deep breath and went to quickly kick her legs out from under her, expecting an easy swipe.

He met nothing but air. And then he felt the punch to his kidney. Eyes wide in surprise, he didn't have a chance to recover as she turned his original move back on him and he fell. His back hitting the dark mat with a resounding thump.

A second later whe had both of his arms pinned underneath hers, high above their heads. Her left knee dangerously close to pressing against his crotch, her chest pressed against his. Wincing, he knew that his quickening breath had nothing to do with physical exertion. Eyes tinged with anger, she glared at him. "That hawk boy, is for making me waste a perfectly good outfit at the docks."

He gulped again, wishing his tongue wasn't as heavy as a house in his mouth so he could apologize to her. He hadn't meant to stand her up the other day, but he just hadn't been able to get himself to face her, alone. He literally had not been able to leave his room from nerves.

Before he could get his mouth to work and apologize, she had already pushed herself off of him.

He slowly got to his feet and finally having control of his own vocal cords again, he said with a bite to his voice, "Again." It did not matter who she was, no one, no one got one up on Rowan Whitethorn that easily.

Instead of answering him, Aelin looked over at Lorcan, "Ooh, looks like the baby bird's beak can bite."

Lorcan laughed and Rowan practically growled, "Best two out of three."

She just huffed a laugh and got into position.

This time, Rowan swung full speed at her right side as he lunged. Her eyes widened in response to his quick attack but somehow she still managed to duck in time. Not giving her a chance to recover, he swung with his left arm, which hit her squarely in the ribs.

Her answering growl and punch had him staggering back.

Damn, for such a petite thing, she was strong.

With practiced ease, Rowan lunged back toward her aiming for her face. Aelin ducked, and rolled off to the side. Rowan shifted and caught her fist in his hand, inches from his face. Without breaking momentum from his turn, Rowan took that wrist, twisted it and pushed her towards the wall, trying to pin her against it.

As if anticipating that, Aelin used his body as leverage and planted both of her feet on the wall. Then pushing off of it, she quickly flipped herself over him and landed lightly on her toes.

Rowan inwardly smirked as he used that same exact momentum to swing his legs blindingly fast and swiped hers out from underneath her. Then, before she could jump back up, he took both of her feet in his hands, twisted them and heaved her underneath him. With her face to the mat, he pinned her.

 _And round two goes to me._

He moved his head so his mouth was just centimeters from her ear and with the adrenaline rushing through his systems he forgot for a moment, who exactly was underneath him, and whispered, "That Fireheart, is for calling my Hawk boy."

He gently let her go and got up. He offered her a hand to help her up but with her face promising future violence, she just swiped it out of the way. He just laughed in response.

Crossing her arms across her chest she said, "Looks like were tied," and then scrambling for what to call him this time, she paused and smirked, "Buzzard."

Oh the things he'd do to those lips.

Not giving him a chance to answer or recover, she came at him again. Though this time, he noticed her hand was wide open. Her eyes alight with assured victory.

Instead of the telltale sting of a slap like he was expecting, Rowan saw a wave of fire come at his face and he ducked in response.

What the hell?

Then straightening up, he looked her directly in the eyes. She wanted to fight dirty? With magic? He could do that.

Rowan gathered his power as she went to throw a flame at him. It came at him and then stopped as it met a solid wall of air and ice.

It was her turn to look surprised. But just as quickly as it came, her expression turned into something akin to delight with a slightly feral edge.

And just that quickly, their hand to hand combat turned into a war of magic.

Rowan had never thought of using his magic as a weapon but it seemed to be second nature to him. He met every single one of her flames with a burst of ice and air. Neither of them cared who was around them as the danced their deadly game.

She released a wall of fire, he smothered it in response.

He released a javelin made of ice at her, she burned it without a blink of an eye.

But then suddenly, she created a circle of fire around them. Her arms raised high above her as her magic, burned, burned all around them.

So much power, he couldn't help but think. She had a dizzying amount power

The wall of fire seemed to reach high above them as it started tightening in closer and closer. The heat rose and Rowan began to panic. He didn't know how to counter it, it was so hot, so bright.

In the distance, he could feel Lorcan swear as he told them to stop.

Aelin ignored him.

Her face was calm as she made the circle even smaller around them.

Rowan desperately tried to smother the fire by manipulating the air. But it was too hot, he couldn't _think._

In a voice that was filled with the confidence and held strength of a future ruler in it Aelin said, "Yield."

Rowan glared at her, still trying to fight back her fire with ice but everything kept turning into steam as it appeared.

She took a step closer to him, the fire swirling higher and higher until it turned to a dome around them. Every step she took, the heat notched up even more.

The flames turned blue as Rowan fell to his knees in front of her. She cocked a hip as he fell and said, "Yield."

He just glared up at her. The fire was scorching now and she was barely fazed as it rubbed against her arms and legs, somehow not burning her or her clothes.

Still on his knees, Rowan suddenly smirked as he realized something.

 _Looks like you're all bark and no bite Princess._

And then Rowan sprang back, through the wall of fire. He felt the burn for a millisecond and then it stopped. The wall of fire parted at his back as Aelin's face shown with surprise. He was right, she didn't actually want to burn him.

It was his turn to smile with a feral edge back at her. It was almost as if no one had ever had the balls to do anything like that before. Rowan just bared his teeth at that look, adrenaline like liquid courage running through his veins.

Her answering growl sent a jolt of pure electricity through his body.

And as she was about to pounce at him physically he felt a dark power steal over both of them, freezing them where they stood.

He looked over at Lorcan then, just realizing that he was still there.

Lorcan's face was blank and deadly, "Enough. Your fight is over." He released them.

Aelin started to answer but then took a look around the room and stopped. There was shattered glass and scorch marks everywhere from where their powers had been thrown around minutes before.

They looked at each other, then. Both slightly shocked at the scene around them.

 _I think we may have gone a little too hard._ Her look seemed to say.

He answered. _Trust me that's not all I have to give, Princess._

It seemed that whatever stopped him from talking to her out loud with any sense of normalcy did not stifle his mental abilities _too_ much.

She let fire engulf her slender hand, _Oh really? Care for another round?_

He just let an invisible wind shift around them in answer.

Her smile turned predatory.

"I said, that is enough!" Lorcan yelled, his power thrumming through the room.

Funny, how they both kept forgetting about him.

"Whitethorn, I order you to back down and get out." He pointed at the door.

Before he could answer him and tell him to shove it, Aelin laughed like they had not just been in a heated mental conversation said, "No worries guys, I can see when I'm no longer wanted. No use for you two to stop training."

With a flick of hair over her shoulder, Aelin went to walk away before either of them could answer. Her hips moving enticingly back and forth, like she did that kind of fighting every day.

And damn them all to hell, that might actually be true.

She stopped in the doorway and crossed her arms across her chest. Raising a single eyebrow, she silently beckoned him to follow her.

All Rowan could think about was just how enticing she had looked with the fire whipping around her just moments ago. He wanted to see how far that power could go, he wanted to see is he could match it. So he followed her out the door, screw training.

He wondered what she was thinking about as she didn't say anything as they walked back towards the castle. She went to turn left and lead him somewhere upwards but before she could, they both heard a distant, "Princess Aelin!" come through the crowd. She gave him a quick look and then sighed dramatically, putting her hands on her hips. Rowan followed her stare to a man that was purposefully striding towards them.

He came up to her and before he could say a single word she drawled, "Let me guess? Queen Maeve requests my presence?"

Rowan could feel the temperature drop as he remembered right then who he was talking to. _Mala save him._ She was the heir to a throne and an ambassador to his kingdom to boot! So clearly _miles_ out his league. Clearing his throat to try and get the frog that had _once again_ decided to live in his throat, he took a step back.

Something in Aelin's body language shifted as her gaze drooped and then hardened when she noticed the change in him. _Good,_ Rowan couldn't help but think, _she realizes it too._

Hurt seemed to momentarily flash across her face. Just as quickly as it showed up, though, it disappeared and Rowan could practically convince himself it hadn't been there in the first place.

Aelin started to walk away her fingers curling in a come hither motion to the man. Quietly, the tall human man followed his monarch towards the castle.

Scratching the back of his neck, he just stood there in the center of the road, watching as she disappeared.

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 **A/N: Review please! Let me know your thoughts or your favorite line! Also, I NEED A BETA, so if anyone is interested let me know!**

 **REVIEW.**


	3. The one in which they dance

**A/N:** **Hello everyone, I am so sorry for the delay! As a senior in college, life got busy so I didn't have much time to write until this week! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**

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Over the next two weeks, Rowan didn't have a chance to see Aelin or even talk to her once. She was always surrounded by people, laughing and talking, barely noticing him whenever their paths crossed.

It was just the way it should be.

Rowan knew he had no chance with her, not in the least because he seemed to have marbles in his mouth every time he tried to say anything around her. And he really, really needed to get control of his magic because, damn it all to hell, just seeing her with another man made whirlwinds appear out of nowhere.

Rowan leaned against the marble pillar behind him as he sipped the fae wine in his hand. He watched as she danced with the man on the ballroom floor, both of them looking to the world like they had nowhere else they'd rather be.

He was the flip side to her coin with hair just as blinding gold, eyes just as strikingly turquoise. He knew, _he knew_ , he had no reason to be jealous of this stranger as they bounded across the ballroom floor, perfectly in sync with each other.

That didn't stop him from flicking his finger slightly as they passed him –

And a wicked smile stole over Rowan's mouth as the blonde stranger tripped over thin air.

Someone snorted off to the side.

Rowan didn't bother turning around as his cousin sauntered over. Noticing that he wasn't going to start a conversation or defend his antics, Erlin laughed, "You look like he just took away your favorite toy!"

Rowan's clenched his fist. He was not in the mood for his cousin's specific brand of theatrics. "Don't you have somewhere better to be Erlin?" He tried to keep the ire out of his voice.

"Better than bothering you, dear cousin?" Erlin placed a hand on his heart, pretending to swoon, " _Never."_

Rowan took a sip of his drink and didn't justify that comment with an answer.

Erlin sighed dramatically, "Oh, come on you spoilsport! It's the summer solstice ball! Lighten up!" He gestured at the crowd of people mingling below them, all laughing and enjoying the summer air.

Without realizing what he was doing, Rowan's eyes scanned the room for the princess. Erlin's soft laugh next to him, told Rowan all he needed to know about how obvious his search was. His scowl deepened at the thought.

"You know, you could just go and talk to her." Erlin said.

Rowan took a sip of his drink, face blank as he stared at the orchestra as they began to play one of his favorite songs. Deadpan, Rowan looked at his cousin and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Just shaking his head in exasperation, Erlin scanned the ballroom with his eyes. Seeing something he clapped his hands together and said, "Fine then! I guess we'll just have to bring the party to you!"

Jumping lightly out of his seat Erlin stretched his arms wide and waved them over his head, "Princess! Princess! Over here!"

Rowan could feel his heart pounding its way out of his chest, _what the hell? That scheming son of a fairy._

Trying to be discreet, Rowan whisper yelled back at Erlin and grabbed for his arm, "Stop! What do you -"

But he was too late. All he could do was watch as the Princess looked around for the fae who called out her name, her deep red dress twirling around her feet. Rowan crossed his fingers under the table, maybe… maybe he'd get lucky and she wouldn't see them.

It seemed like Mala was not on his side tonight because in that second, Aelin's eyes connected with the two of them and she smiled, her teeth glinting in the chandelier light.

Every step closer she took, Rowan could feel his heart pump more and more wildly. He hated it, absolutely hated his reaction to her.

Trying to steady his shaking hands, Rowan looked down into his drink and twirled it. Maybe this time he'd actually be able to speak to her like a normal fae.

Quickly, he lifted his wine to his mouth and downed it in two large gulps – he definitely needed some liquid courage right now.

As he smacked the empty glass on the table, he looked up and saw -

Aelin's chest.

Dear lord, the things that dress did to them.

 _Shit._ Look up Rowan, look into her eyes and stand up. _Shit. Shit._

Finally tearing his eyes away from her chest, Rowan did just that. With the alcohol buzzing through his body, his mind was scattered in every direction. Her eyes, he thought, they looked like an ocean ringed in fire. He wondered if she could set fire to the ocean and if they would match?

With a small laugh, her hand rose to her heart, "Well maybe but I doubt the fish would be happy about it!"  
Eyes wide, he blinked at her in mortification and squeaked, "Did I just say that out loud?" He could practically feel his ears turn scarlet, the contrast against his hair making it every more prominent.

This time she didn't even try to make her laugh sound dainty and princess like, instead she tossed her head to the sky, her long blonde tresses bouncing down her back.

At that moment, Erlin finally decided to step in and save him, "Princess," He swept his arms in front of him and bowed, "You look magnificent tonight."

Back under control, she turned away from him and towards his cousin, a smile that screamed etiquette lessons across her lips.

Rowan chanced a look down at her dress. In truth, it was stunning. Deep red like dried cranberries, it was high necked with a long open back and golden lace outlined her arms and upper chest. Tight all the way to below her hips, it accentuated her curves and the thigh high slit showed off her tan, long legs.

"Thank you, Erlin. It was a gift from my mother actually!" She looked down at herself, straightening out some unseen wrinkles, her eyes soft as she continued, "It seems that she knew, even if I didn't, that I would be staying here long enough to be in need of it."

"Do you miss home, Princess?" Erlin asked.

Finally looking back up, she answered, "Every day." She played with the small bracelet on her wrist, the only piece of jewelry she wore.

Never one to bask in nostalgia, Erlin said brightly, "Well, you will be home soon enough! But for now, let me go grab us a round of drinks! Its seems we are all out and what is a ball without a bottle or two of wine?"

Not one to be unguarded for two long, Aelin raised her eyebrows and answered, "A bottle?"

Smiling mischievously as he walked away, Erlin said, "A glass! Of course, I meant to say a glass!"

Her exasperated shake of head told him she didn't believe a word of it.

Rowan, alone with the Princess, turned to her and asked, "What is it like? Terrassen?"

"Oh, it's beautiful! Filled with pines taller than some houses, rocky mountain ridges peaked with snow." She gestured happily with her hands, so much passion about her homeland in her eyes. He could tell, then and there, that she would make an amazing queen in the future.

"We have ta celebration every year on the summer solstice," She gestured towards the ballroom, "Though, nothing like this."

Rowan looked back into the ballroom, at the tall marble pillars and elegant decorations, "Is it a ball?"

She shook her head, "No, it's a festival. There's a carnival and so much celebration all around Orynth." She glanced at him then, "We even open the doors to the royal estate for the day and everyone is invited in to partake in a feast with us."  
She sighed then, as if just remembering where she was and more importantly – where she was not.

Feeling brazen from the alcohol and not wanting for her to feel melancholy on the first day of summer, Rowan asked, "Would you like to dance Princess?"

She stared at his offered hand for a moment contemplatively as if it held the answer to the question of the universe. Finally, she put her long covered hand in his, "Yes, that would be lovely."

As they walked towards the dance floor, they did not say a word. Rowan, all of a sudden hearing the new song as it came on, began to sweat. He recognized those sultry notes and realized that he would be dancing with Aelin, _Princess of Terrasen,_ for the most intimate dance known in all of Dornelle.

Turning towards her, he opened his mouth life a fish. He couldn't dance with her for this!

She stared at him intensely then gestured, _If you'd rather wait for the next one, we can_?

His heart squeezed as he realized she was giving him a way out, that even now, when it would be social suicide to back away from a dance, she cared more for his comfort.

Taking a deep breath, he looked her in the eyes (once more thankful for the free flowing wine), "No need."

Lightly, he wrapped his arms around her and stared directly into her eyes. She too, stepped into his embrace and if not for his fae hearing, he wouldn't have noticed her slight intake of breath or the change in her heart beat.

Slowly, they began to dance, never breaking eye contact. The contilla, as the dance was called, started slow with partners dancing in a circle around the floor. But later it would speed up and depending on the skill level of the dancers, take on a whole other dimension.

As they ended the slow portion, Rowan spun her out of her arms. Her skirt flew wide as she shimmered in the light, so very much like the fire she controlled. Entranced by her beauty, he didn't realize the strength at which he pulled her back in, not until his honed reflexes were the only thing stopping them from falling over as she came back into his arms.

Flush against him, he could feel every contour of her body. Her fast paced breathing pushing her chest against his, her face so close that if he leaned in –

He stopped that thought right there and went to loosely step back as they began to speed up but then Aelin grabbed his wrist.

Not breaking their connection, she pulled herself tightly to him, pushing his hand into her lower back and whispered "Don't."

Gulping as they began to move faster, he decided then and there if this was all he could get – and it likely was with her being who she was – he would take it.

Steeling himself, he firmly pressed her center against his and looked into her eyes. It might have been his imagination but he swore he could see her pupils dilate as she licked her lips. Getting ready to hold her as she leaned backwards from him for a dip, he grabbed her leg, wrapped it around his waist, and sensually rubbed his thumb against her thigh.

A smirk played across her lips as she felt his fingers go further than was proper. She seemed to say, _so that's how you want to do this?_

If he was still thinking straight, Rowan might have stopped there but thankfully, he was no longer thinking with his head. Instead he bared his teeth in a growl, _do your worst._

And she did.

She pushed his boundaries to the limit, her hands constantly skimming him and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Never breaking eye contact, he pushed right back. When they dipped, he made sure lightly drag his canines against her skin. When he lifted her, she never failed to make her body was as close as possible to his.

Finally, when the song finished, she smiled blindingly at him, her hair wild and no longer constrained in perfect coils, cheeks flushed from exertion and said, "Another?"

What else could he do but oblige?

* * *

Before he knew it, the ball ended. Not once had he and Aelin left each other's side. The thrill of it made his magic stir, so close to the edge. He knew that it was the same for her, he could practically hear the sizzling of fire at her finger tips.

Not wanting the night to end but know it needed to, Rowan turned to Aelin and began to offer his goodbyes – but she interrupted him by saying, "Walk me back to my room?"

Feeling all the eyes of the ballroom on him, he tried to quell his nerves as he nodded and led her through the castle.

The walk to her room was spent in a relaxing silence, her body never straying far out of reach. As they reached her suite, Aelin led them into her living room. Interested, Rowan looked around at the place she has been living for the past two years since she arrived at Dornelle. He could tell, that while most of the items were Queen Maeve's, some were definitely not.

One of those things, he now held in his hand. It was a small wooden toy, no bigger than his palm.

Laughing Aelin came up behind him and looked at the figurine, "It was mine as a child." She gestured for him to hand it to her so he did. With delicate fingers, she traced the outlines of the horse, "My parents gave it to me because I kept lighting all the others on fire. They had this one spelled to resist flame." Then before he could even process her words, it was covered in flames.

Looking at him now, she said, "See?"

Intrigued, he cloaked his hand in air and reached for it. Taking it from her, he looked at her face as he felt the slight tickle of warmth around his hand.

She was looking at him searchingly again, as if trying to figure out a puzzle, "You're really not afraid of it, are you?"  
Confused, Rowan asked "Of what?"

"My fire."

Tilting his head to the side, still confused he said, "Should I be?" Then shrugging his shoulders, he continued, "You have fire, I have air, what's the difference? It's all magic."

She turned away from him and walked further into the suite and leaned against her bedroom window, "Everyone else is, back home and even here." She looked back at him, the moonlight tracing her features, "It's always there brushing at the edge of my conscience, at the tip of me finger tips burning under my skin."

"For me it's like I'm always surrounded in a slight breeze of my own, if I don't let it out enough it'll make it difficult to grab a piece of paper sometimes."

Her smile turned melancholy then and she looked back at the toy in him hands, "You're lucky then, if I'm not always completely in control I can be a _bit_ more destructive."

Remembering the ease at which she lit the figurine on fire just moments before, he didn't doubt it. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to be her in Terrasen, surrounded by people who feared her gift. Never truly feeling at ease with her fae heritage, who would even be there to teach her?

Just then, a realization came over him, "That's why you're really here isn't it? To learn control?"

She laughed a little at that and stood up. "Partially yes but I'm mostly here to secure an alliance with Maeve."

He nodded, that's what he remembered being told by Lorcan when she first arrived. An alliance of the two fae nations.

"I actually have a drop of water in me too." She waved at the water glass by her bed and bit her lip in concentration. Slowly, he watched as the water drifted into the air. It stayed there for a moment, before she lost control and it fell with a resounding splat.

Sheepishly, she grimaced and said, "There's not much there but it's something I guess?"

He jokingly poked her shoulder, "Maybe you should just stick with fire? Seems like you're a _little_ better at that."

Playfully she huffed and walked past him towards her changing room, "Trust me I got power and then some to spare."

"Really?" Everyone always said that she was powerful but he'd honestly never seen anything to suggest it – bar their sparring match.

He could hear the shuffling of clothes falling off her body as she answered, "Why else would they make me travel to the other end of the world to get trained?"  
He tried to keep his mind off the fact that she was now _naked_ less than ten feet away from him. But gods help him – he had spent the last couple hours in close contact with that body and he had a good imagination.

As he finally got his body back under control and shifted about so the parts he _couldn't_ get back under control were hidden, she stepped out of the changing room.

And he forgot how to breathe.

Gone was the long gown, in its place – dear gods – was a small slip of a thing. Squeaking, he quickly whipped around and accusingly asked, "WHAT in the name of Deanna, are you wearing?"

Her answering laugh was enough to tell him that she had planned this, "Oh this?" Her voiced laced with false innocence, "Just my pajamas."

Trying to get his breathing under control, he heard her snort. "Oh come on boyo, don't worry. I'm not going to do anything untoward towards you."

Eyes still closed, he heard her walk around him and sit on her bed. "Rowan," she said playing with the hem or her small barely their slip, "don't act like you've never seen a girl in less than this."

When he didn't answer she got up and stood in front of him. Meanwhile, he was fighting for control with everything he had. Some part of him, deep down, had seen her in that and needed to take her now – bite her and have his way. He didn't want her to see it in his eyes, the want. Thankfully, she was still in her human form and couldn't hear or smell what was going on with him.

"Rowan look at me." She lightly touched his shoulder and was about to continue when the door slammed open. They jumped apart from each other, startled out of their minds.

"Aelin!" The golden stranger from before happily exclaimed as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Then he stopped dead as he noticed what she was wearing and that she was not alone. Suddenly, his entire countenance changed, "What," he pointed at Rowan, "in hell is going on here."

"None of your business Aedion, come back later." Aelin said defiantly to her obviously drunk cousin.

 _Shit._ Rowan couldn't help but think as he finally placed the male, _it was her cousin._ He was dead.

"None of my…" He shook his head and stared at her from across the bed, "None of my business! Everything you do is my business!" Then pointing at him, "You could have just lost us this alliance! He's part of Maeve's court, gods dammit Aelin, first trying to get yourself killed by walking around the slums and now this? What would your mother say?"  
Her eyes turned to slits, "I am my own person Aedion, you do not control me and neither do my parents."

He could see that this was getting into dangerous territory, so Rowan slowly began to back away towards the door.

As if that small movement made them both realize he was still there, twin turquoise eyes turned their heated stares at him. Faster than Rowan could blink, Aedion spun, unsheathed his sword and had it under his chin, "Tell me, fae, why I shouldn't kill you for this. It's well within my rights."  
Gulping, Rowan looked at Aelin, wondering what he meant. Aedion laughed, "Oh you don't know do you? She's the heir to the throne, meaning, anyone who wishes to court her – or just fuck her in your case - has to be approved by the head of the house under penalty of death. As it stands, the King is that head of house."  
"AEDION!" Aelin's hair cackled with energy as she stalked towards them, "Get away from him right this instance and don't bring my father into this."

To entice him, Rowan saw Aelin carefully light his hand on fire. And with a shout, Aedion dropped his blade and nursed his burned hand.

Looking back at him, Aedion said in a forced civil tone, "Rowan Whitethorn, I believe it is time for you to leave."

Glancing quickly at Aelin, who nodded while not taking her eyes of Aedion, Rowan left the suite.

Racing quickly through the halls, Rowan's mind was buzzing. His thoughts were going a million miles an hour and his instincts were screaming at him to go back and protect Aelin, though he knew she didn't need it.

Finally out of the castle, Rowan leaned heavily against the stone wall and sank onto the cold hard ground. He put his head in his hands and tried to still his pounding heart. What in the name of Mala had just happened? What had he been thinking all night? How could he forget who she was?

 _And why did he still feel this incessant need to be with her right now?_

* * *

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